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It’s only gotten worse as the years go on, and now, the sound of screaming through the speakers that Phoenix left on is really doing it for me. I’m balls-deep in Phoenix, laughing my ass off as he grunts and squirms against the sheets, and I time my thrusts to the sound of Ari working the poor bastard over for his final breaths.
The fucker was already half-dead, but Ari has a way of reviving people just when they think it’s over. It shouldn’t get my blood running as hot as it does, but what can I say? We’re all a little fucked-up here.
Beneath me, Phoenix finally shudders and manages to drag his dick against the sheets just hard enough to come, and I let him moan through it before shooting my load deep inside him. I give the side of his ass a pat like he’s some kind of dairy cow, and then I roll off and fall flat on my back.
He collapses in his own mess, his brow furrowed and his eyes mostly shut since he took his prosthetics out somewhere during his afternoon with Ari. He looks almost sweet. Of course, it’s a mistake to think of any of us as sweet, but that’s probably what makes us so dangerous.
I’m probably the only one that stands out in a crowd, but that’s mostly because of my arm. And maybe a little bit of the metal in my face and ink on my skin, but people we come across tend to think my piercings are hot, and my stump is mysterious…or whatever.
Unable to help it, I think about Alice and the way she’d stared at my arm. In that moment, it had bothered me the way she stared at my scars. Maybe because there wasn’t disgust or that sort of unconscious revulsion that most people feel when they see a mangled limb. With her, there was curiosity and maybe even a little empathy.
So I told her it was a shark bite, and the sarcasm she shot at me took the place of any potential pity. That was the Alice I needed. The Alice that would mouth off and push too far and force our hand. That was the Alice that had to be present because Kane has plans for her, and nothing any of us says or does would change his mind.
He is God here, after all.
“Check the monitor.” Phoenix’s voice is hoarse, probably from the way I’d forced him to deep-throat me, and with my dick piercings, that was never kind to sensitive flesh. He doesn’t sound annoyed about it, though. In fact, he’s kind of smiling.
Rolling over, I pull the tablet from the bedside table, where I always keep it. Each of us has one that connects to every piece of monitoring system that Phoenix has set up. I touch the button for the playroom, and I see Ari having a cigarette, leaning against the table. The man in the chair is slumped over, and the monitor in the room is registering only one heartbeat.
RIP, you piece of shit, I think to myself with a grin.
“Dead.”
Phoenix pushes up on his elbow with a frown. “Who’s dead?”
“The fucker Ari and Kane have been working over,” I answer, confused because who the fuck does he think I meant?
Phoenix scoffs, and he’d probably be rolling his eyes if he could. “No, jackass. Check onher.”
Her. Alice.
She’s been unconscious ever since Ari stuffed that rag in her mouth and drugged her to oblivion. She’s been out so long I’ve started to worry a little bit, even though her vitals monitor says she’s fine. She’s probably dehydrated as fuck and hungry, and I don’t think she’s going to get much comfort when she wakes up, but it’s still good to know these things.
I think.
I feel a weird sense of trepidation as I hit the menu button and hover my finger over the cell in the basement. Only a few people have ever occupied that space. It was originally built for Phoenix when he tried to end his life after his injuries, and I spent time in there when Kane gave me the worst punishment of my life.
But outside our little island of misfits? I usually think of that place as death row because no one ever comes out of there and lives much longer than a few more heartbeats.
I ignore the feeling in the pit of my stomach as I tap the button and the room flares to life. It’s dark, but Phoenix’s cameras have amazing night vision. Alice is on the bed, and her eyes are closed, but she’s finally starting to stir.
With a breath, I stroke my finger over her midnight-black hair, which is fanned out and tangled, and I try not to think about how I feel…and also why. There’s no need for it. My entire world exists under this roof, and we’re perfectly fine as we are.
She’s just a means to an end.
So why does this all feel…wrong?
I jolt back to the present when fingers brush against my jaw, and I look up from the screen as Phoenix rolls a little closer. His touch trails down my arm, over my fingers, then onto the screen. “What does she look like?”
I know he knows. His AI is programmed with more descriptive abilities than most humans have, but I know Phoenix also hates it sometimes. He just hates trusting other people not to lie to him even more. Tech, he always says, is incapable of blowing smoke up his ass to make him feel better.
Once upon a time, Kane tried to lie about the way Phoenix’s scars looked. Then he had his AI describe what was in the mirror, and it was the worst fight I’ve ever seen. And Kane allowed Phoenix to hurt him because he knew he needed to pay penance.
We’ve learned since then, and I think Phoenix trusts us, but I know he’ll be fact-checking me the second we’re alone.
“She’s starting to wake up,” I tell him. I let the tablet fall against my stump so I can link my fingers with his. “She looks pretty fucking wrecked.”
“Pretty,” he echoes.
